Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1887-06-13

uuu Jul ACIC IL lS EOIIE " lduu. 1uGuh
God for the intimation of my text, that
when we die jesus takes us. That an
swers all questions for me. What though
there were massive bars between here
and the city of light? Jesus could re-
move them. What though there were
great Sshgrss of darkness? Jesus could
illume them. What though l get weary
on the way? Christ could lift me on HIS
/ omnipOtent shoulder. What though
there were Chssms to cross? His hand
could transport me. Then let Stepen's
prayer be my dying litany: Lord Jesus,
receive my spirit" Il may be in that
hour we will be too feeble
TO SAY A LONG PRAYER.
1t may be in that hour we will not be
able to say the Lords Prayer" for it
has seven petitions. Perhaps we may be
too feeble even TO say the infant prayer
our mothers taught US, which John
Quincy Adams, seventy years of age, said
every night When he put his head upon
his pillow:
Now l lay me down to sleep,
l pray the Lord my soul 10 keep.
We may be too feeble to employ either
Of these familiar forms; but this prayer
of Stephen is so short, is so concise, is so
earnest, is so comprehensive, we surely
will be able 10 say that: "Lord Jesus,
receive my spirit" o, if that prayersis
answered. how sweet it will be to die!
This world is clever enough to US. Per
haps il has treated US great deal better
than We deserved to be treated; but if on
the dying pillow there shall break the
light of that better world, we shall have
no more regret about leaving 6
small, dark, damp house for one
large, beautiful, and capacious
That dying minister IN Philadelphia, some
years ago, beautifully depicted it when,
in the last moment, he threw up his hands
and cried out: II move into the light"
Pass on now, and will show you one
more picture, and that is Stephen asleep
With path0s and simplicity peculiar to
the Scriptures, the text says of Stephen:
"He fell asleep" "OR," you say, "what
place that was to sleep! a hard rock
under him, stones falling down upon him,
the blood streaming, the mob howling
What place II was to sleep" Aud yet
my text takes that symbol of slumber TO
describe his departure, so sweet was it,
so contented was it, SC peaceful was it.
Stephen had lived very labOrious life
His chief work had been to care for the
poor. How many loaves of bread he dis
tributed, how many bare feet he had
sandaied, how many cots of sickness and
distress he blessed with ministries of
Kindness and love, do not know; but
from the wsy he lived, and the way he
preached, and the way died, ] know he
was
LABORIOUS CHRISTIAN.
But that is all over now. He has pressed
the cup to the last fainting lip. He has
taken the last insult from his enemies
The last stone TO whose crushing weight
ne is susceptible has been hurled
Stephen is dead, The disciples come
They take him up. They wash away the
blood from the wounds. They straighten
out the bruised limbs. They brush back
the tangled hair from the brow, and then
they pass around to look upon the calm
couutenance of him who had lived for
the poor and died for the truth. Stephen
asleep! | have seen the sea driven with
the hurricane until the targled foam
caught in the rigging, and wave rising
above wave become as if soouc &c storm
the heavens, and then | have seen the
tempest drop, and the waves crouch, and
everything seemed smooth and FURNISHED
as though camping place for the glo-
ries Of heaven. So l have seen a man,
whose life Aas been tossed ana
driven, coming down at last in ar infinite
calm, in which there WAS the hush OF
heavens lullaby. Stephen asleep l
saw such an one. He fought all his days
against poverty and against abuse. They
traduced his name. They ratified at the
door-knOD while he was dying, with duns
for debts he could not pay; yet the peace
of God broOded over his pillow, and
while the world feded, heaven dawned,
and the deepening twilight of earth's
night was only the opening twilight of
heavens morn. Not sign. Not tear.
Not struggle. Hush Stephen asleep!
l have not the faculty to tell the
weather. can never tell oy the setting
sun whether there Will be a drouth or
not. l cannot tell by the blowing of the
wind whether it will be fair weather or
foul on the morrow. But Can prophecy,
and will prophecy what weather il will
be when you, the Caristien,
COME TO DIE.
You may have it very rough now. 1t
may be this week one annoyance, the next
another annoyance. 1t may be this year
one bereavement, the next another be-
Before this Vear has passed
you may have to beg for bread, or ask for
a scuttle Of coal or pair of shoes; but
spread your death couch amid the leaves
of the forest, or make it out of the straw
of pauper's hut, the wolf il the Jungle
bowling close by, or ineXoraole creditors
jerking the pillow from under your dying
nead-ChriSt will come in and darkness
will 60 ont. And though there may be no
hand 10 close your eyes, and no breast on
which 10 rest your dying head, and no
candle 10 lift the night, the odors of
Gods hanging garden will regale your
soul, and 81 your bedside will malt the
chsriots OF the King. No more rents TO
pay, no more agony because fur has
gone up, nO more struggle with "the
world, the flesh, and the devil" but
neace-long, deep everlasting peace.
Stephen asleep o
Aeleep in Jesus, blessed sleep,
From which none ever wase to weep;
calm and undisturhed rensse.
Cninlurec by the last o. iocs.
Asleep in Jesus, far from thee
Thy ndred and their graves may be-
But there is still blessed sleep,
From which none ever axe to weep
You have seen enough for one morning.
No one can successfully examine more
.hSn five pictures in q day. Therefore
We stop, having seen this cluster Of Di-
vine Raphsels-Stephen gazing into
,aa